The voice remained "melodious," but no longer carried any trace of the previous weakness and pleading, only a chilling mockery and suffocating amusement.
Filch suddenly turned his head back, only to see that the tattered puppet nailed on the cross was now "standing" on the ground—
No, it wasn't standing; it was floating a few centimeters off the ground in a manner that would make Newton rise from his grave and angrily curse. Its stiff wooden joints creaked with its movements, and the golden glass beads in its eye sockets started to flicker with a strange light.
Compared to the bizarrely beautiful scene it was half a minute ago, the current view was enough to make one's sanity uncontrollably plummet.
"You… what are you?!"
Filch's voice was distorted by fear, and he scrambled backward using both hands and feet until his back slammed into a cold stone wall, informing him there was nowhere left to retreat.
"A thing?"
The puppet tilted its head stiffly but with an eerily human-like gesture, "I am, of course, the damsel in distress you personally rescued, kind Wizard." She emphasized "rescued" and "kind," her tone dripping with sarcasm like a poisoned needle piercing Filch's heart.
"No, not me, wait… you're the devil… you bewitched me…"
Filch stammered, tears welling up in his murky eyes. He waved the magic wand in his hand frantically, trying to cast some spell—even the simplest Light Charm would do—but under extreme fear, even an ordinary wizard couldn't ensure success, let alone him. The tip of the Willow Wand flickered a few times before extinguishing completely.
"All right, shh—calm down, Wizard sir."
The puppet floated closer slowly, raising its wooden finger to gently place it against Filch's lips.
The next moment, the man felt an invisible force clutching his throat, blocking all his words and reducing them to wheezing and gasping sounds.
"Are you done playing?"
A deep male voice sounded, and Filch's eyes widened further—was there someone else here?!
He looked towards the sound, seeing another figure almost identical to the puppet before him sitting up from the ground. As it moved, veins, muscles, and skin rapidly grew at a visible speed. By the time it stood up completely, a disheveled red-haired man stood naked before them.
"That person could return at any moment."
Filch heard the red-haired stranger continue, speaking in a cautionary tone.
"We need some insurance—the bastard's powers are unpredictable, and this guy could be useful."
Almost like a duplicate, from the first word the puppet spoke, to the last syllable uttered, the woman who had been hung on the cross "grew" out of this puppet. Apart from being equally naked, she was no different from the one Filch initially saw—
Long golden hair hung down her chest, covering the parts that couldn't pass the censors.
"Your plan… if he hadn't stayed in the castle, or if not everyone had left the castle today…"
Hephaestus glanced around, pausing for a moment before picking up a piece of stone from the ground. With a forceful squeeze, two pitch-black robes appeared in his hands. After tossing one to Athena, Hephaestus hobbled to the side, "So it's based on coincidence—"
"It's not coincidence—"
Athena waved her hand, her tone calm, as she draped the black robe over her shoulders, "Actually, I planned all this from the start. This kind of infiltration is the only way to accomplish things undetected with absolute certainty. Today is a human holiday, so that guy won't rush back, and I've already severed all his connections to this place—"
"…"
Watching the flickering blue runes around them, Hephaestus fell silent again for a moment, "I… don't believe it, you know? Right now you sound like some authors without any outline, who find a random phrase they wrote previously turning into a perfect foreshadowing at a certain plot point, and then they feel so ingenious—"
"… Why is it so specific?"
"So, what's the plan next?"
The mysterious force interrupted their off-topic conversation, pulling it back on track, and Hephaestus suddenly asked seriously.
"We leave behind a blinding technique sufficient for our departure—"
Athena squatted down, pulling the magic wand from Filch's terrified yet soundless hand, weighing the Willow Wand's heft, and a mocking smile curled her lips, "It's merely the deceitful tricks of modern mortals, but indeed, it allows us to channel magic power with more precision—"
Saying this, she half squatted, leaning closer to Filch, regarding the beautiful visage that had once moved her heart, but now could only evoke cold suffocation, "Well?" Her lips curled softly, "Are you still willing to help me, kind Wizard?"
"…"
"Since you won't speak, I'll take that as a yes?"
"…"
"Such a kind-hearted Wizard, I…"
"Can you stop dawdling?"
Impatiently, Hephaestus stomped his foot, prompting Athena to cease her delays obediently. The wand in her right hand lightly tapped Filch, and the next moment, he felt all his muscles tensing up, and his body rising into the air, drifting backward—
Wait, what's behind?
The cold touch pressed against his spine, and two painfully familiar, rusty long nails appeared before his eyes—the next moment, excruciating pain shot through his palms, and Filch's head lolled to the side, his consciousness utterly slipping away.
"… Is it done?"
Gazing at yet another "Athena" on the cross, Hephaestus squinted, asking.
"Almost… no, one more to go."
Athena suddenly chuckled, turning to her limping brother without speaking further, while her molten golden eyes seemed to conceal a shrewd wisdom capable of seeing through anything.
"Wh-what's wrong?"
Hephaestus felt a chill as if under intense scrutiny, prompting him to hide his right hand behind his back, sneaking it open.
"Do you really think I'm unaware? Brother?"
Athena's smile grew even sweeter, her voice impeccably soft, yet to Hephaestus, it sent a shiver up his spine. He almost instinctively wanted to retreat, and yet, the next moment, a stiff sensation rapidly coursed through his entire body.
"I gave you a chance, Hephaestus—"